The Greatest Deception
by hpaddictedg
Summary: They have all the glamour of a train wreck and all the love of a murder - but it will still be dreadfully interesting to w a t c h t h e m f a l l. [DMxGW drabble series; complete]
1. Prologue

**A/N: **D/G drabble series; takes place in the course of one day (hence the times). Much is implied if you look for it.

_1; prologue_

Love/hate doesn't do them justice. You can't take such a simple definition and apply it to human emotions, because human emotions run unchecked and generalizations _never_ work. You can't say that he despises her, because he doesn't, not _always_. And you can't call her the damsel in distress, because, sometimes, she knows perfectly well what's going on and what's at stake. And sometimes they're in love and sometimes they're not – but you'd never even know it; no one says a _word_ about that.

A murder by any other name is still a murder, after all. And calling them _human_ and justifying their actions isn't going to make them any less real. Things happen, people change, and you're _afraid_, you know. But that isn't going to stop _anything_.

It's Draco and Ginny forever – and even if _forever_ ends tomorrow, it won't make a difference. Even if _forever_ is a lie.

But try telling that to them.


	2. 12:01 am

_2; 12:01 a.m._

If you're awake as early as this, you're usually either up to something incredibly devious or something incredibly stupid. To Ginny, sometimes there isn't much difference between the two. Wandering the halls in search of so-called adventure at just-past-midnight is devious at its best and stupid at its worst – makes you feel rebellious, but if you get caught, you're _dead_. Filch is unforgiving at these hours, and Ginny doesn't trust him, not one bit. But she's never seen much point in sleeping _(doesn't seem to do her much good, anyway)_, and so she walks.

In front of her, Ginny spots the figure of a fellow insomniac.

"Malfoy?" she whispers curiously, _carefully_. If it's really Filch and not Malfoy…

But, "What?" he whispers back, turning on his heel. "Weasley? What're _you_ doing up?"

"Nothing, unfortunately," she replies, rolling her eyes. "Not very exciting around here this late, huh?"

"It is," he returns slyly, "if you know where to look."

"And where would _that_ be?" she questions, catching on.

Any further queries from her are then temporarily silenced.

Supervision, after all, is hard to come by at an hour such as this.


	3. 10:59 am

_3; 10:59 a.m._

History of Magic, if you were to ask Draco, is boring as hell and twice as long. Binns is a crazy old codger and an idiot, of course, and if Draco wanted to sleep during class, he'd just skip it. But Binns' class _is _good for one thing: thinking. And because there's never enough time in the day, Draco decides to steal someone's notes later and contemplates instead of listening.

Hate and love, he knows, often coincide; it's just never happened to _him_ before. You _do_ have to expect such things when you're a person such as him, after all, and so it isn't all that surprising. But that infernal Weasley girl is such a walking contradiction that it's impossible not to think about. Smiling one minute and screaming the next; hexing his brains out, but she's a part of Dumbledore's Army, they say _(so self-righteous that it makes him ill)_. And she's just a blur in his mind, Gryffindor red and ink-black and _the fate of the world in her hands_, as Binns asks him who defeated Grindelwald.

"Albus Dumbledore," he replies without missing a beat.

No one expected anything less.


	4. 12:38 pm

_4; 12:38 p.m._

Ginny watches that idiot Malfoy boy walk _(saunter, more likely) _to the Slytherin table for lunch and rolls her eyes. He's so self-assured that she wants him to fail, _just once_, so she knows that he's mortal. Sometimes, she wonders if he knows, himself. But she supposes that arrogance is preferable to self-loathing, or self-destructiveness, or anything else of the sort.

Malfoy, she supposes, is preferable to many of the boys in the school, let alone in Gryffindor. Malfoy, she supposes, is quite _interesting_, to tell you the truth. Malfoy, she supposes, is rather lovely, if you go for that sort of thing. _And she does_.

Well, she _thinks_ so, at least. You can never really be sure.


	5. 1:03 pm

_5; 1:03 p.m._

Lunch is over, and that Weasley girl's walking agonizingly slowly to class, Granger beside her. One more step, and Malfoy would be standing between them. But he doesn't risk it.

Suddenly, they notice him.

"Ignore him," Granger mutters distinctly to Weasley, who smiles a bit.

"He didn't _say_ anything," she points out jokingly.

"I _know_," Granger snaps, "but he _will_."

"Oh, okay," Weasley grins. "Okay. But what if I were to say 'hello' to him?"

"Then you would be out of your _mind_!" Granger retorts, and Weasley chuckles a bit.

"I was just _kidding_, Hermione!" she insists. "Do you think I'd really _do_ that?"

"Of course not," Granger laughs, catching on. "Sorry; I'm just a bit tired. _Loads_ of homework last night, you know."

Draco wishes that Weasley _would_ do that, if just to spite Granger. Merlin knows that she needs it.

But Draco really doesn't care all that much, you know. Of _course _not.

_Liar_.


	6. 1:08 pm

_6; 1:08 p.m._

"Hello," Ginny says suddenly, spinning around to face Draco.

"Do you _want_ something, Weasley?" he sneers.

"Nothing in particular," she replies slyly. "Just wanted to say 'hi'."

"Well, you did," Draco responds. "Are you done?"

"Not in the least," Ginny smiles. "Meet me after class?"

"It'd be a crime not to, you know," Draco finds himself agreeing slowly, "after what…_happened_ this morning."

"Come alone, then," Ginny says importantly.

"Jeez, Ginny," Draco mocks, "this isn't a secret mission or anything."

"It can be if we want it to," she points out. Draco wants to agree, but –

"See you later, then," he smirks, and hurries off, leaving Ginny standing in the same place in the corridor, watching the other students pass her by _(but it doesn't feel like they are, not really)_.

This is either the best or the worst day of her life – she just isn't sure which.


	7. 2:00 pm

_7; 2:00 p.m._

Weasley's standing there, in the same place, after class is done – Draco wonders if she's moved at _all_.

"You didn't bring anyone with you, did you?" Draco mutters secretly to her, pretending.

"No one," Ginny promises conspiratorially. "You?"

"Not a soul," Draco swears, and then – "You're rather childish, you know, Ginny."

"I _am_ still a child, you know, _Malfoy_," she smirks.

"No, you're not," he says seriously. "You're practically an _adult_, love. When are you going to start _acting_ like it?"

"When I start _feeling_ like it," Ginny replies swiftly. "We have our whole lives to be adults, you know, Draco."

"Yes," Draco agrees, "yes, you're right. But you can't _be_ a child anymore. It isn't—"

_"Riddle," _Ginny interrupts softly, suddenly looking afraid.

_"Riddle,"_ Draco agrees, remorseless.

It's like their own dirty little secret.


	8. 3:11 pm

_8; 3:11 p.m._

"Have you ever said a _word_ to anyone about us?" Ginny asks Draco urgently.

"No," he sneers. "Why _would_ I? You _are_ a Weasley, you know, doll."

"And _you're_ a Malfoy," she snaps, "but _I_ wouldn't be ashamed."

"Yeah, right," Draco replies, rolling his eyes. "Like I haven't heard _that_ one before. Do you take me for some kind of fool?"

"No," Ginny responds softly, hurt. "But-"

"But _nothing_," Draco interrupts savagely. "Are you telling me that you could walk to up Potter, _right now_, and tell him that we've been shagging?"

"Yes," Ginny insists. "Yes, I am."

"Then _prove_ it," Draco smirks. "He's right over there." And Ginny looks behind Draco, and there he is, talking in a corner to Luna. Ginny forces herself to walk over.

"Hi," Harry says pleasantly to her. "What's up?" And Ginny _wants_ to tell him, but –

"Nothing," she smiles sheepishly, embarrassed. "Just…wanted to say 'hi', that's all. We never get to talk much anymore."

"No, we don't," Harry agrees, puzzled. "Well…'bye, Ginny."

"'Bye," Ginny replies, and slinks back to Draco.

"Well?" Draco asks. "Did you tell him?"

"No," Ginny admits.

"Why not?" he questions.

"Because you're a Malfoy," Ginny responds firmly. "And I hate you."

"I hate you, too," Draco returns. "More than anything."

He is only half-lying.


	9. 5:50 pm

_9; 5:50 p.m._

Pansy Parkinson isn't stupid, you know. She sees what's going on; she just keeps quiet about it, because she knows that, in the long run, her opinions don't matter. But she _sees_ – sees Draco and that little Weasley girl together, even if they don't know it. Of _course _they don't know it; they think they're being so _sly_ and so _secretive_. But even if only one person knows, it's still one person too many. Pansy knows that she could blow the roof off the school with the information she's seen…but she won't tell. She'll never tell. It would only make things more final.

And when Draco tells her that he loves her, Pansy knows that he's lying – but she doesn't say a word; she'll _never_ say a word. _Never_. And when Draco tells her that he loves her, Pansy replies that she loves him too, and smiles _(rose-red lipstick and eyes so dead and does he know, she wonders?)_, and walks away.

Nothing will _ever_ be the same again.


	10. 8:22 pm

_10; 8:22 p.m._

And if you were to ever ask her, Ginny would tell you that she loathes him. She would tell you that he hates her, and her family, and her brothers, and absolutely _everything_ that they stand for, and so she hates him back. And that's just what she tells Ron and Harry and Hermione if they ever get suspicious – "Why are you even asking? Malfoy's a fucking _git_; we know that."

She used to know that. She isn't so sure if she does anymore.

It's almost sickeningly hilarious that Draco and Tom are _(were?) _so alike. Almost terrible; almost disturbing; almost _comforting_, though, in a way that she can't seem to understand. History has a dreadful habit of repeating itself, she knows, and maybe that will continue, and maybe it won't. All she's really sure of is that, for now, everything's fine.

So she thinks.


	11. 11:58 pm

_11; 11:58 p.m._

Sometimes _love_ and _hate_ and _emotions_ just aren't enough. Sometimes you need proof that you're really alive and that what you believe is true and that everything you've been doing hasn't been in vain. Sometimes you need to walk around the school when you think no one's watching, but you know they really are, 'cause you can _feel_ it. You need to purposefully make too much noise and walk a bit too slowly just to catch her eye.

Draco Malfoy knows all too much of freedom and ignorance and this so-called bliss that everyone compares to falling in love. But what these people don't know is that you don't _fall_ in love, not really – you _slam_ in love and you _drown _in love and you _asphyxiate _in love because _it's all that matters, after all_. _Life_ doesn't matter and _happiness_ doesn't matter and _shadows_ and _secrets_ and _goals_ don't matter; _love will set you free._

If love is the ultimate truth, then Draco thinks that he'd rather be lied to.


	12. 11:59 pm

_12; 11:59 p.m._

No matter what Ginny tells herself, Draco isn't a good man. Good men are in Gryffindor, not Slytherin; good men don't lie to you and use you and refuse to make eye contact with you and do everything in their power to make you hate them. Good men don't walk away, again and again, just because they can.

But good men just _can't_ love Ginny, she's starting to realize. Good men like Michael Corner and Dean Thomas and Harry Potter know in their hearts that Ginny just isn't a good girl. And they know that Ginny could never love them, either – not _really_. They know that she's too dark or too light or too young or too old or too everything and nothing and _infinity_. She's just a little girl looking for something real, but what she doesn't know yet is that _nothing_ is real and _no one_ is watching out for her _(neverever; no one will ever truly love her)_.

But Draco Malfoy will never tell her the truth. And, in a time when the truth is the greatest lie of all, Ginny is willing to accept that this is the best she'll ever get.


	13. Epilogue

_13; epilogue_

Sometimes, love can be the most horrifying deception of all. They say that _the truth will set you free_, but if _the_ _truth_ means _hurt_ and _death_ and _pain_ and _never being satisfied_, then some people would much rather be lied to. They'd rather carry on the illusion of true love, forever and ever, just as long as someone's watching. They'd rather have everything only feel real during the day then never have it feel real at all. They'd rather say _love_ 'till _love_ has no meaning – 'till _love_ is a word and not a feeling, 'cause feelings will _always_ let you down, and words are the only things that matter.

If life means always having to settle for less than you need, to always be a bit too hungry and a bit too tired and a bit too angry and bit too _empty_, then one more disappointment isn't the end of the world _(except for when it is; except for when it's Death itself and only they can save each other)_.

Only _they_ can end the world. And if they're going to, then they're going to do it together – even if _together_ is a lie. Even if _together_ ends tomorrow.

But try telling that to them.

_(the end)_


End file.
